


Big Guy and Twinkle Toes

by HobbitAtHeart



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Brooke, Bottom Vanjie, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hotel Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, Making Out, Morning Sex, Power Bottom Vanjie, Power Dynamics, Public Hand Jobs, Riding, Sexting, Spanking, Switching, Top Brooke, Top Vanjie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2019-12-07 05:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18230300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobbitAtHeart/pseuds/HobbitAtHeart
Summary: A collection of prompts (mostly smut) featuring big guy and toes.





	1. Finding a Voice

Vanjie was loud. Whether it was shouting incoherent encouragements at her sisters on the runway or singing an early 2000s R&B pop hit to herself in the werk room, any queen in the room could instantly recognize the gruff, Puerto Rican princess’s charismatic voice. Not that Brooke was complaining by any means. On the contrary, Vanessa’s voice was one of the many things she found to be adorably charming about the little queen (that and her fucking mouth). Her chest grew tight every time Vanjie passed by her in the werk room, simply grabbing a textured cloth off of another table, and under her breath growling a sweet “s'cuse me, baby”. Her chest wasn’t the only thing that began to feel tight.  
What Brooke didn’t expect, however, was how quiet Vanessa was in bed. Surely she would feel equally free to share all of her thoughts or wants as loudly as she could out in the public eye, Brooke imagined. But when Brooke backed the queen into a corner of a bathroom stall and sucked at her neck or held her down to the bed with one dance-toughened arm, Vanjie remained silent. The silent attitude went on for so many of the first times that they hooked up, by the fifth time, Brooke felt like it was a thing.  
They were in Brooke’s hotel room. It was 3 am, and most of the queens would either be in their rooms half asleep or out partying. They usually met in the middle of the night, mostly so no one would be nosy and try to play into their relationship, or whatever it was. Right now it was Vanessa in Brooke’s lap, her short thighs spread across Brooke Lynn’s muscular legs. They were feeling their teenage fantasy making out in a large, uncomfortable chair, but neither of the girls were complaining. Vanjie’s hands stroked upward over Brooke’s now shirtless chest, thumbs brushing over her nipples. Brooke breathed in sharply, her grey sweatpants beginning to tent and rub against Vanessa’s black Adidas ones, the friction increasingly maddening. They broke apart, the space between them filled by low, gasping breaths.  
Brooke Lynn smirked.  
“How come I’m shirtless and you’re not, baby?”  
“Because we have more important things to do right now,” Vanjie whispered back in a sultry deep voice, her face moving towards Brooke’s for another kiss. Just as she reached her lips, Brooke gently wrapped her hand around Vanessa’s neck and pushed her back a teasing inch.  
“Like what?” she raised an eyebrow coyly.  
Vanjie smirked this time, but the playfulness in her eyes was quickly replaced by a lustful darkness. “Like this,” she punctuated by groping the front of Brooke’s pants without warning, Brooke’s breath hitching and releasing a soft “ah”.  
Vanjie lowered her mouth onto Brooke’s long neck and sucked, and bit, and sucked, all the while rubbing Brooke with just enough firmness to leave her gasping and falling apart just a little. Jesus, they had barely even started and Vanessa was pulling sounds from her that she didn’t know she made. Brooke shifted her hips experimentally and rubbed herself against Vanjie, expecting at least a soft moan. All she got was a sharp breath through Vanessa’s nose as she determinedly continued to work her jaw against Brooke’s throat. Brooke’s frustration had come to a high, and in this moment, Vanjie’s hand on her clothed dick, she made it her personal vendetta to make the Puerto Rican scream so loud that she lost her fucking voice.  
\---  
A couple of minutes later they ended up on the bed, as per Brooke’s suggestion. She had finally coaxed Vanessa’s shirt off to reveal her small, yet toned frame, waist tightened by so many cinchers. Both of their pants had come off too, and this time Brooke was on top, her large frame completely encompassing Vanessa’s smaller torso. They had been continuing making out for a while now, and while Brooke ached for the taste of Vanjie’s mouth, she felt that her mouth should be moving other places right about now. Breaking a kiss, she sucked on Vanjie’s lip, then her jaw then moved from her throat to her chest, where she knew Vanessa was really sensitive. Taking her nipple in her mouth, Brooke simultaneously lowered her hand down to Vanjie’s hip and under her briefs, taking her dick firmly in her hand and immediately pumping at a steady rate. She raised her eyes to hopefully gauge Vanjie’s facial and vocal reaction, but Vanjie had an almost pained expression on her face, her lip caught between her teeth almost as if she was trying not to…  
Suddenly, Brooke realized exactly what could coax the voice out of her small lover.  
Hand still pumping firmly away at Vanjie’s dick, Brooke slithered up from her chest to where her neck and ear met and whispered in a low tone, “What’s wrong baby? Are you getting all worked up for daddy?”  
Vanjie’s pupils visibly dilated and her mouth fell open on what was more of a whine then a moan, her eyes avoiding Brooke’s line of sight. Her face and chest shone a bright red, clear evidence of her embarrassment at how much the roleplay affected her, and Brooke felt that that was enough encouragement to continue. “You’re getting so hard for daddy, aren’t you?” Vanessa gasped and moaned highly, squirming around on the bed. As Brooke’s motions sped up, her voice grew louder and louder, until Brooke was positive she had unlocked something.  
But what really fucking convinced her, was when Vanjie turned her body to face her, arm pulling her in by her neck, and whined, “Can you fuck me, daddy?”  
Brooke lost it. She once again took place on top of Vanjie, this time spreading her legs even farther apart and snatched the lube and a condom from the bedside table. Hastily rolling the condom on herself, she squirted a generous amount of lube onto her fingers and reached down to prepare Vanessa, but a small hand gripped her wrist. She looked to Vanessa with an expression of concern but Vanessa was a beautiful mess. Her lips were slightly swollen and red and her eyes were blown out with lust. “I didn’t say finger me. I said fuck me.”  
Brooke let loose a small smirk. That’s the Vanjie she knew.  
Coating her cock in lube, she pulled Vanjie’s hips forward and slowly began to press in. When she was fully in, she breathed out shakily. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight.”  
Vanjie’s eyes were closed and she was gripping the cheap bed sheets. There was that pained expression again, but this time, there was no silence.  
“Fuck me, daddy.”  
Brooke’s whole body shuddered with heat. She began to fuck Vanjie like she wanted all of the queens to hear, roughly gripping her small hips to pound into her harder and harder, the bedframe shaking with each movement. Vanjie’s arms flew to her neck and pulled her down closer to her, releasing whines that were growing louder and needier.  
On a particularly deep thrust, Brooke’s voice broke on a long moan and she buried her head in Vanjie’s shoulder, coming in harsh spurts inside of her. Vanjie whined and moved her hips, needy for more until Brooke found her dick and started stroking furiously.  
“Come for me, baby girl.”  
Vanjie let out the loudest, highest, sound that Brooke had heard come from the small queen and came onto both of their chests. After a few minutes, they moved apart, catching their breaths and lying next to each other on the bed.  
Brooke playfully stroked Vanessa’s chest.  
“If that’s how loud you get when I fuck you, I’m gonna need some earplugs when I rim you.”  
Vanessa responded in a worn out, raspy voice,  
“Fuck you, too, bitch.”


	2. Those long van rides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What might Brooke be referencing when she refers to those long van rides?

The bus rumbled quietly as the queens piled on in succession, Ariel tripping over herself and Yvie supplying a loud reaction much to the enjoyment of the other tired queens. A handful of claustrophobic and rushed hours of bitching and stitching looks for the following day’s monster ball had zapped most of the girls’ energy. Even the usually bombastic Silky trudged her way into her own seat, plopping down comfortably behind Rajah who had plugged her ears with possible lip sync music. The energy was off. Usually, when the day was over, the girls gathered like schoolmates onto the large greyhound bus and sat in small circles, kiki-ing and cackling the half-hour ride back to their hotel.   
Tonight, however, everyone snuggled into their own rows, nodding off under their jackets or frantically sketching, scratching out, then re-sketching designs for their looks. Brooke was somewhere in-between, as she stared distractedly out of the window, turning over worried ideas for her third look. Ru’s blatant lukewarm reaction to her original proposal of a jealous runner up had left her with lingering anxiety, as she was now really beginning to feel the strain of carrying her weight at the top. A subtle touch roped her back down to reality, however, as a small, tan hand gently stroked her knee where the shorts she wore cut off. Any distressing thoughts circling her subconscious immediately melted away as Brooke absorbed the soft heat from Vanessa’s touch. The younger queen sitting closer to the aisle was nestled warmly into Brooke’s broad shoulder, her eyes closed peacefully. Brooke smiled. As much as she adored the ecstatic and loud werkroom Vanjie, she had to admit that the quiet, more reserved, and adorably tired Vanessa really caused her heart to falter for a few beats.  
Dropping her head slightly onto Vanessa’s, Brooke let her eyes fall; the bus softly lurched forward and began the journey back. She figured she could take this time to enjoy the little physical intimacy she could have with Vanessa each day before they were sequestered into their rooms. The lights on the bus had all been dimmed anyway to allow all the girls a bit of darkness during the night drive, and most if not all of the other queens had flocked to the darker and warmer back of the bus, where a few bits of conversation buzzed. The quiet hum of traffic began to lull Brooke to sleep, and within five minutes her thoughts were trailing off into dreams. There was one thing that suddenly rendered her extremely awake, however; the loose hand on her clothed dick.  
She knew that bitch couldn’t let her rest.  
Brooke was so comfortable that she didn’t want to move, so she could not even adjust her head to see if Vanessa’s eyes were even open. After all, she did know the territory well enough to find her way around. As Vanjie’s hand formed into a more firm position, she began to grope Brooke through her shorts, rubbing teasingly up and down in minuscule movements that were just strong enough to make Brooke’s dick harden with every stroke. Brooke began to breathe a little faster, letting out small, frustrated puffs as Vanjie’s hand quickened slightly. When her breathing began to falter and a whine threatened to spill from her lips when Vanessa pressed a little harder, she lifted her right hand from her side and gripped Vanessa’s small wrist in her larger fist. It was now that Vanessa moved, her shoulder shifting away and her face turning to Brooke’s in an expression of immediate concern. Brooke quickly soothed her worry by laughing quietly and breathlessly, lifting an unblocked eyebrow at Vanessa.  
“You trying to make me the Willam of this season?” Brooke whispered, face pressing in closer to Vanjie’s. Vanjie smiled her infectiously white smile and moved her face until her lips were just brushing Brooke’s, their faces centimeters apart. “Why, are you gonna tell the girls on me?” she pouted her lips adorably and lowered her bushy boy brows teasingly. A heated silence formed between the two as they shared each other’s breaths, then right as Brooke leaned in to taste her lips, Vanjie nudged her jaw with her small hand until she was forced to stare out the window. So this is how she wanted to play it.  
Suddenly, Brooke felt rather than saw Vanjie press her lips under her right ear, whispering in a low, gruff tone that she reserved specifically for the Canadian queen. “I want you to think about this in your room later when I know you be touchin’ yourself,” she whispered, hand now unbuttoning and unzipping Brooke’s shorts stealthily. Brooke couldn’t breathe, and the Los Angeles nightlife did anything but distract her from the scalding hand that now slipped under her shorts, pulling her hard dick out from her briefs. Luckily, the large t-shirt she wore draped over the top of her shorts and Vanjie’s hand, concealing the scene to any nearby queens. The thought of another queen, though, say the unsuspecting Shuga shuffling by and catching sight of Vanjie’s hand on her caused a bead of precum to form at the base of her cock.   
Spreading the moisture over the head and relentlessly punctuating each stroke upward with a twist of her wrist, Vanessa began to breathe a little heavier near Brooke’s ear. “When you take a shower tonight, I want you to imagine me on my knees for you, baby.” Brooke tried and failed to suppress a quiet, broken whine, her jaw slightly ajar and panting. She felt an equal hardness against the side of her right thigh as Vanjie shifted to press a little closer, stroking now with more intent. “I would eat you out from the ground up. Baby, you know you got a perfect ass.” The strokes had become shorter, faster, and more firm, as Vanjie could spy the telltale signs of her partner’s coming climax. Brooke almost looked like she was gonna cry, her expression pained but stained with heated, uncontrollable lust. Vanessa smiled, as the bus was now only a couple blocks away from the hotel.  
“Brock.”  
Brooke turned her head, cheeks sin-red and blue eyes blown black. Her eyes met Vanjie’s, equally dark with need.  
“If I could have you to myself right now, I would fuck you with my fingers and let you fuck my mouth until you came all over both of us.”  
The final words pushed Brooke over the edge, as her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she let out a silent moan, dick pulsing under Vanjie’s hand, which was still pumping.   
The bus lurched to a stop and Vanjie’s hand sprung from Brooke’s shorts, wiping away the evidence on her own undershirt. As the other girls began to load off of the bus, she made a move to get up and grab her things, but a strong grip on the front of her shirt pulled her back down. A sated and fucked-out Brooke kissed her sensually on the lips and pulled her face back.  
“Save me a seat tomorrow?” she giggled, low and breathless.  
Vanessa smirked, her still-hard dick twitching at the suggestion.  
“Sure. But this time, I get the window seat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, honestly I'm really coming around to the idea of submissive Brooke Lynn.


	3. Friends in familiar places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Btw, are you still taking prompts? If so, could you pretty pretty please write a fic centred around dirty talk or sexting? W dominant Brooke and playful/bratty bottom Vanjie? Thank you xoxo"  
> -writworm42

Brock groaned, running his right hand roughly though his wavy blonde hair. He had been through it today. The show at Roscoe's last night had left him sore and hungover and his empty promise to stop drinking had held as much validity as his promise to his legs to do less middle splits. Needless to mention, his head and lower half were screaming from abuse. Another day, another city. He waved his hand in regard to a blue Prius that pulled up to the curb. The driver, a small bald man with black shades that hid his eyes, waved him into the back seat after he put his suitcases in the trunk. Spying a suspicious pile of boxes in the front seat, Brock let himself into the back. The Uber driver seemed content with speaking to his contemporary on his phone, and the two took off to Brock's hotel, about 45 minutes away. 

Sighing deeply, Brock relaxed into his seat and fished his phone out of his pocket. He saw one text notification and opened his name to find a new message from Jose. He smiled to himself, heart aching. They had only been apart one week after rendezvousing in LA and Brock already felt the ghost of Jose's lips upon his, way too soft than he thought fit for a boy. The distance in their relationship was beginning to feel worse, and the playfully flirty tweets and Instagram comments weren't enough to satiate Brock's yearning for the warm touch of the Puerto Rican.

He opened up the conversation.  
It was an attachment, a picture that Jose had most likely taken of himself right then. He was in what might have been Silky's bathroom (since it wasn't his), smiling brightly into the mirror. He was wearing a red, short sleeve button up and a black backwards cap, one of his favorite outfits. It just happened to be one of Brock's favorite outfits too. Brock could just make out the exact place where his neck met his clavicle and his tattoo peeked out under the collar of his shirt. The tattoo that Brock would usually scrape his teeth over until Jose pressed his hands into his hair, eyes squeezing shut and a breathy “please” falling from his lips. Brock shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes darting to the rear view mirror to see if the driver was at all engaged in his passenger. He seemed to be quite absorbed in his own phone call and driving, to Brock's relief. God, he felt depraved.  
Under the picture popped up a new message:

Big Guy: miss u

Without waiting another second, Brock typed a response.

Toes: I miss you too, boo  
Big Guy: where ru  
Toes: I think Ru is probably at home with his huband  
Big Guy: biiiitch u know whati mean where r u??  
Toes: In an Uber. Why?

Another attachment was sending, and Brock found himself gripping his phone a little tighter. When the picture loaded, Brock choked. It was a full shot of Jose in front of Silky's mirror, his hat and shirt in a pile on the counter. His back was towards the mirror, knee perched on the counter, which arched his back and pushed out his butt. Holding the phone in his right hand, his head was turned sultrily toward the camera. Brock's dick hardened immediately and he shifted as close as he could to the window behind the driver's seat. He placed his blue zip up jacket on his lap and lowered the brightness of his screen.

Big Guy: jus for u ;)  
Toes: Omg baby  
Big Guy: wanna see u  
Toes: Babe, I'm in an Uber :(

A silence, and for a second Brock worried that he upset him. Then another picture sent, and Brock lost his breath. This one was from the front, and Jose's face was nowhere to be seen. Instead was a full frontal view of his light brown skin stretched tight just around his abs and his dick, hard and poking out in the grasp of the hand the wasn't holding the phone.

Big Guy: ?

Brock swallowed his pride. Trying to be discreet as possible, he grasped himself over his sweatpants, grey fabric straining over his hard on, and snapped a quick picture. He sent it, eagerly awaiting a response.

Big Guy: fuck  
Big Guy: ur dick  
Big Guy: would hop on that so fast if I were their  
Toes: Oh yeah?  
Big Guy: yeah I wanna ride u  
Big Guy: and I want you to fuck my mouth  
Big Guy: why can't you be here omg  
Toes: You're really being naughty, aren't you? Big Guy: yess daddy  
Big Guy: I'm so hard4u  
Big Guy: im pretending that its ur hands  
Toes: You know bad boys who aren't patient get punished? Don't you want me to fuck you?  
Big Guy: yes  
Toes: Cause if I was there, I would rip off your pants and bend you over the sink. Then, I would eat you out until your voice was raw. And maybe if I was feeling nice, I would fuck you over the counter so hard that your hips bruised and your throat stung from moaning. You want Daddy to fuck you hard, baby?

Brock was sweating, his untouched boner becoming almost painful. He would have the time later in his hotel to finish himself off, but now the knowledge of taking Jose apart over the phone was enough to last him through the drive. He grew anxious, however as Jose was not responding to his last text. Did he take the roleplay too far? After 5 minutes and a flagging erection, Brock felt like this was enough.

Toes: Hey, baby. I'm sorry was that too much?  
Big Guy: no  
Big Guy: um  
Big Guy: i just came really hard and dropped my phone  
Toes: Oh  
Toes: You came just for Daddy?  
Big Guy: bitch u better stop I'm gonna jump through that phone

Brock smiled, already feeling the gentle yet excitable presence of Jose. Suddenly, the drive home didn't seem that long.

Toes: Come and get me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading :) as always, feel free to request any prompts.


	4. With a little help from my friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Inspired by the new Roscoe's Tavern tea (from episode 8 viewing party), could you write a fic about Brooke and Vanjie's first fuck whilst filming the show (Silky said she got a PA to buy Vanjie douches lol so that could be something to explore) …”  
> -girlll

“My girl says she wants you to make her pussy fart.”

Brooke stood in the threshold of her hotel doorway, wearing only a white towel around her waist and a bemused (yet a little disgusted by the phrasing) expression on her freshly washed face. Silky was stationed firmly in front of her, a small white plastic bag dangling from her grip. Her breath faltered as she regained her energy, presumably having rushed as quickly as possible to help out her ride-or-die hoe in the best way she knew how. 

“Wh-what are yo-

“Vanjie. Miss Brooke, lemme tell you, that bitch is thirsty for yo’ ass. She wouldn’t stop talkin’ bout’ you so I thought I would take matters into my own hands, bein’ as I’m her best friend.”

A hot rush of blood flew into Brooke’s face and she felt herself stir lower. It’s not like this was the first time she was hearing of Vanjie’s infatuation with her. She had been around the block a few times, had enough trade come on to her at gigs and bars to be able to read signals very clearly. Vanjie’s prolonged stares that trailed away when she turned her head in her direction were enough to convince Brooke of her intentions. She had confessed her own growing feelings to Nina in private. The way her voice caught in her throat when Vanessa smiled, and her eyes beamed. The way Vanjie’s bombastic laugh never failed to bring out her own. The way that Vanjie’s tattoo peeked out of the top of her tank tops. The way that her small, yet full ass pressed against her shorts when she bent over to pick up her wigs. Brooke suddenly became very aware of her lack of clothing, as her half-hard dick began to press up against the towel.

“So, okay...what are you trying to say?”

Silky smirked and held up the white plastic bag. Brooke could barely see through the filmy material but she just made out the lettering and shape of the box inside.  _ Oh dear Jesus. _

“What I’m sayin’ is that I got your girl covered. Treat her nice.” She turned on her heels and sauntered back down the hallway, leaving a flustered and slightly damp Brooke at a loss for words.

“Wait, Silky! Wha-

“I’ll give her your room number!” Silky yelled as she rounded the corner.

Brooke slunk back into her room, closing the door and leaning up against it. She felt way too hot, and it wasn’t from the shower.  _ What the fuck have I gotten myself into? _

 

-

 

Another day had passed in the werkroom, the other queens growing more focused as they solidified their ideas and looks. Brooke had jerked off in the shower, having woken up hard thinking of Vanessa’s smooth skin and lips. She knew she needed absolute focus for this challenge, and her winning the first design challenge immediately vanquished her doubts and anxieties. As she lay in her bed, however, and watched the dark LA sky out of her hotel window, she could feel another feeling begin to build. This was not anxiety, this was something more akin to eagerness. 

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a knock came at the door. This time, she was dressed in a thin grey t-shirt and sweatpants, as she was not gonna risk popping another b in front of one of the other queens. Opening the door, she started,

“Listen, Silky, I-

Her voice died in her throat as she realized that the person in front of her was not Silky Ganache, but the small, tan-skinned, adorable Vanessa Vanjie. She was wearing a revealing white tank top, one that barely hung off her frame and revealed her whole chest. She was also clad in sweatpants, though hers were darker and probably not as ancient as Brooke’s.

“Can we talk?”

Brooke’s heart stopped for a beat.

“Uh..yeah, yeah. Of course. Come in. Wait,” she looked up and down the hallways. “Are you sure the PA’s won’t care?”

“It’s like 3 am, they couldn’t give a shit about what they don’t know,” Vanessa said in a volume that Brooke was not used to hearing and let herself in, Brooke closing the door after her.

After a moment of silence, Vanjie turned to face her.

“So, listen. Silky told me that she went up to ya’ room and...said a few things to you. I just wanted to let you know that I had nothing to do with all that. That crazy bitch,” she laughed quietly, shyly looking at the ground and scratching the back of her head.

“It’s okay,” Brooke laughed. “I was honestly just more shocked that she managed to find my room number.”

A few moments passed with the two avoiding eye contact in silence, and then Vanjie began to walk out.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in the werk room,” she said uncharacteristically quiet, brushing past Brooke. Before she could make it to the door, however, Brooke grabbed her wrist. Vanessa looked back at her, unsure of what to do.

“Is it true?” Brooke whispered.

“Is what true?”

“Are you into me?” Brooke asked, punctuating the question by tracing the inside of Vanjie’s wrist with her finger. Vanjie raised her eyebrows and then let out a small grin, all bashfulness aside as she turned into Brooke and stepped into her space.

“And what if I am?” she breathed, their faces close enough only to see each other’s lips.

Brooke shivered, her arousal spiking instantly. 

“Then I might have to do something about it.”

Vanjie’s breath hitched quietly, and Brooke surged forward, kissing her with warm intensity. Her hands found Vanjie’s hips and she turned them around, pushing Vanjie onto her back on the bed, Brooke towering over her. They kissed over and over and lost track of time, the minutes marked by their panting breaths, or Brooke’s low whine as Vanjie took her bottom lip in her mouth and just sucked until Brooke began to rut against her. 

“Off,” Vanjie breathed hard as she pulled back, yanking her own shirt off and then Brooke Lynn’s. She held her bottom lip between her teeth as she unapologetically stared at Brooke’s chest, her smaller hand running down from Brooke’s collar bone to her bellybutton, feeling the hard muscle from so many years of dancing. 

“Fuck, babe.”

Hearing the soft term of endearment come from Vanjie’s usually loud mouth caused Brooke to groan. Her hands came to bracket Vanjie’s hips and she ground down experimentally. Vanjie groaned at the impact, her hands flying up to rest on Brooke’s firm back muscles and she ground down torturously slow and hard. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Brooke breathed into Vanjie’s ear, her face tucked into the Puerto Rican’s neck. For once, Vanjie seemed to be nonverbal, only high moans being pushed from her throat with each thrust. Wanting to pull out more noises from her, Brooke sped up her pace, her hands gripping Vanjie’s still sweat pants-clad hips hard enough to bruise. Vanjie let out a broken sound, her arms wrapping around Brooke’s neck and her legs squeezing her sides. Vanjie’s voice was gruffer than usual as she spoke out into Brooke’s shoulder, her words paired with Brooke’s relentless thrusts. 

“Oh my, ah, god, ah fuck, fuck, babe, ah, I’m gonna, ahh, come if you don’t, stop!” she whined, body starting to tense up. Brooke slowed down, lessening her grip on Vanessa and pulling back slightly to kiss her. Vanessa squirmed under her, body hot and dick uncomfortably hard from the contact. Brooke leaned down and kissed her neck, worrying a mark into the side while Vanessa lost her fucking mind. She leaned into her ear again, breathing into her hairline.

“Can I fuck you?”

Vanessa could only whine, nodding her head while she removed her sweats and Brooke her own. Brooke leaned over to grab a small vial of lube and a condom that she had stored in the bedside drawer. She tore open the condom package and slipped it on, groaning as she stroked herself once, twice. She smiled to herself as she caught Vanjie practically drooling from underneath her.

“Do you need me to finger you, baby?” Brooke asked softly. Vanjie’s dick twitched at the suggestion, but she shook her head.

“Just fuck me,” she said, gyrating her hips a little. Brooke giggled at her impatience and squirted some lube onto her fingers, slathering the liquid in and around Vanessa’s hole. When she felt that was enough, she scooted forward and shoved a hotel pillow underneath Vanjie’s hips. Vanjie gasped loud enough for the whole room to hear when she felt Brooke’s dick at her entrance. Knowing her own size, Brooke dropped to her elbows on either side of Vanjie’s head and pushed in slowly. When she was fully in, she breathed out hotly and groaned, her left hand coming up to grip Vanjie’s hair sharply. Vanjie gave her a pained look, and Brooke began to move.

She lifted Vanessa’s legs into her arms and thrust in shallowly, relishing in Vanessa’s small whines. 

“Harder,” Vanessa groaned

Brooke began to breath harder as she drove deeper and firmer strokes into Vanessa, the other girl panting like she was going to die. Vanessa whined as Brooke suddenly pulled out, but her dick jumped back to attention when Brooke turned her onto her stomach, pulling her ass up weaving a hand in her hair.

“You come when I fucking tell you,” Brooke growled as she began to drive into Vanessa harder than ever. 

“Fuuuuuck, baby, oh my god,” Vanjie moaned highly, closing her eyes. Soon the talk ceased and the room gave to the harsh sound of skin slapping on skin, Vanjie moaning louder and louder with each deep thrust and Brooke groaning with her. Brooke could tell that Vanessa was gonna come, her whines high pitched and turning into gasps. She leaned into the smaller queen, hand leaving her hair and going straight for her dick, pumping quickly.

“You gonna come for me, baby?”

Vanessa sounded like she was about to cry.

“Uh-huh”

“Come”

Vanjie opened her mouth on a silent scream and gasped like she had been stabbed, coming onto herself and the sheets below them. Brooke gripped her hips and fucked her hard, the other girl whining from the sensitivity. On a particularly deep thrust, Brooke whined and held Vanjie still as she came inside of her, breathing erratically.

After the two caught their breath, Brooke pulled out and collapsed next to Vanjie.

“I guess I need to thank Silky for that douche,” Vanjie laughed breathlessly, kissing Brooke’s chest.

Brooke smiled, too fucked out to really respond.

“How romantic.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :). Also, I hope no one is bothered that I switch between feminine and masculine pronouns between chapters.


	5. Homesick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'd love to see you write vanjie topping. Either full on experienced dom vanjie makes brooke fully melt, or maybe in some verse where brooke usually tops one of them asks the other if they can try switching it up…”-formercongressman

The morning sun peeked out in slivers through white shades, painting half-filled mugs, cigarette butts, and crumpled up tissues in a soft yellow hue. Brock’s eyes cracked open, groggily surveying his bedroom with confusion. Months spent in strange hotel rooms scattered around the States had left him unfamiliar with his home in Tennessee. He had almost forgotten the smell of his blankets, a perfect mixture of sage, cigarettes, and cat food. 

Home had become a strange concept. During filming, home had been the werk room, where he fondly recalled the sticky scent of hairspray and the sharp stink of makeup. When he was on the Season 11 tour, he fell asleep every night to the lonely scent of fresh laundry, face pressed deeply into the hotel pillows. 

He truly felt like he had come home now, though, and not because of his own sheets tangling around his hips or his old dance DVDs strewn in the corner by the TV. His home was the warm bundle of Puerto Rican snuggled up with one arm slung across his chest protectively, mouth open and softly snoring into Brock’s neck. He couldn’t help the dazed smiled that spread across his face as he inhaled deeply, stretching out his limbs while trying not to disturb his sleeping boyfriend. They had finally gotten a week. A week away from gigs. A week away from the world. And Brock, without hesitation, had demanded that Jose pack up his shit and meet him in Tennessee. Jason reminded them that they could only stay for a few days before having to ship off somewhere else. The week could have been years, however, as when Brock turned his head to watch Jose squirm in his sleep before pulling himself in closer to the Canadian, he felt that the minutes could last forever.

Brock stuck his nose in Jose’s hair and lived in the younger queen’s scent. To anyone else, the sheer amount of cologne that Jose doused himself in might have been a turn-off, or too overbearing, but it was one of the eccentricities that Brock loved him even more for. He closed his eyes again, giving into the drag of sleep, but Jose was restless again. Brock turned in his embrace, taking Jose’s face softly in his hands, and kissed him softly, the wet sound of their lips reverberating in the quiet room. Jose’s eyes opened slowly, and his perfectly white teeth peeked through in a coy smile as he looked at his boyfriend in devoted awe. 

“Good morning, baby,” Brock cooed in a sweet voice he saved only for the bedroom, kissing Jose on the tip of his nose.

“‘Morning,” Jose yawned, rubbing an eye with his fist.

“Did you have a nightmare or something?”

“...no. Wait...why?”

“You were squirming around.” Brock pulled the sheets back up to cover their bodies, still bare from the night before. He stroked Jose’s arm idly as they lay on their sides, facing each other. A look of puzzlement lay over Jose’s face for one moment, and then he gasped.

“Oohh, shit I remember,” he said, hands rubbing over his face in embarrassment.

“Wait-oh my god, what is it?!” Brock prodded, pushing at his chest playfully.

“I, um...had a dream where I f-” Jose mumbled off the last of his words, blushing madly.

For a bitch who usually couldn’t shut the fuck up, Brock was always surprised at Jose’s rare coyness.

“You what? I can’t hear you,” Brock giggled. Jose let out a quick puff of air.

“I had a dream where I fucked you.”

Brock almost swallowed his tongue. 

“Just forget that I said nothin’. It’s stupid!” Jose groaned, yanking the sheets up over his head. Brock’s head was still spinning, but his body had reacted immediately to Jose’s confession. His cock began to swell under the sheets. He felt like he had just discovered something he never thought existed. And he needed it. Now. He lifted the sheets over his own head, slithering under to snake his arms around his boyfriend’s naked form, as he had turned to face away from him abashedly. He pressed his lips close to Jose’s ear, feeling the younger queen shudder slightly, as he had mistakenly once revealed to Brock that he had very sensitive ears. 

“Why don’t you?” Brock whispered lowly.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, bitch you know I was jo-”

Brock’s hand slid down his stomach and cradled his hip.

“I’m serious.”

The next ten seconds condensed to one, as Jose whipped around in Brock’s arms and threw the sheets off of both of them, Brock laughing at his eagerness. He took his place on top of Brock and quieted him with a soft kiss before kissing down the blonde’s chest. Brock gasped as Jose reached his profound hip bones, fondly sucking a mark below his belly button while the older man groaned, his hand weaving into Jose’s dark hair. He closed his eyes as he prepared for Jose’s mouth on his cock, now protruding painfully into the air, but he opened them at a small hand smacking at his thigh. Jose looked at him with a playful smile, and his dick twitched. 

“Oh no, big boy. I’m in charge this time.”

“ _ Fuck _ .”

“Why don’t you turn over and let me see the ass that’s all over Instagram?” Jose purred in a tone that made Brock’s spine melt. Brock turned onto his stomach, his head resting on top of his folded arms. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to imagine Jose’s longing expression, like an addict with a needle in his hand. He felt the younger queen’s hands stroke down his back till they reached his ass. Without warning, Jose playfully smacked one of his cheeks, and Brock gasped in a way that he knew Jose would tease him about for the rest of eternity.

“Oh, you like that?” Jose breathed out, voice already raspy with want. He slapped Brock again, this time a little harder, and Brock couldn’t stop the moan that left his throat as he ground his illegally hard dick into the mattress, the friction maddening.

“Aw, babe. We’re gonna explore that later. I got more that I wanna do to you.”

Before Brock could ask what his boyfriend meant, the breath was knocked out of his stomach as Jose pulled his cheeks apart with both hands and relentlessly dove in with his mouth, lapping at his hole.

“Ah-ah-oh my- _ fuuuuck _ -babe- don’t fucking stop-oh my  _ god _ ,” Brock whined in an uncharacteristically high voice. Jose grinned as he ate him out, tongue prodding rhythmically and hands kneading his ass, occasionally smacking one cheek. Brock was all but drooling onto the bed, his strong thighs drifting apart, when he felt Jose’s mouth retreat. The Puerto Rican kissed the base of his spine, heat briefly turning to gentleness. 

“Are you sure you want this, baby?” Jose’s voice was so low that Brock almost didn’t recognize it. He knew that he would be addicted to this. Brock could only nod into a pillow that he had shoved under his head, afraid of releasing noises that he wasn’t ready to hear himself make. Jose lovingly stroked the back of his thigh and bent over the side of the bed to find the small bottle of lube that they had used last night, thrown to the ground in a spur of blind lust. Brock heard the cap click and flinched at the cold slide of lube over his hole. He hadn’t bottomed in years, so the sensations were still a bit strange. 

“I’m gonna finger you now, okay?”

“ _ Please _ .”

Jose worked one finger into Brock, his other hand stroking along his side and his mouth placing sweet kisses on his shoulder. After a couple of minutes had passed he had worked in two more, now thrusting in and out shallowly. Brock was panting, eyes shut tightly and hands straining at his pillow. Jose was hovering over him, his breath suddenly hot, heavy, fast, and Brock finally felt his boyfriends hardness poking into his lower back.

“Baby,  _ please, _ I’m gonna-ah-fuck-I’m gonna-Jose-just- _ fuck,”  _ Brock whined incoherently. Unable to hold back any longer, Jose grabbed another pillow from the bed and shoved it under Brock’s hips, the taller man letting out a pained moan as the pillow rubbed against his dick. He positioned himself at Brock’s entrance and put a hand on his lower back, steadying himself as he slowly entered him. Jose stalled when he was fully inside, hands now coming to grip Brock’s hips. When Brock finally began to push back against him, he started to thrust into him. Brock’s back arched and he gasped, slamming his fist against the mattress. Jose grinned, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, and began to thrust faster, the bedframe shaking back and forth.

“You like being fucked, babe? Huh? Maybe I should fuck you more often,” Jose gave a particularly harsh thrust and Brock keened. Brock was beyond words, only releasing loud “ah, ah!”s as Jose continued to thrust faster. He began spanking him again, punctuating each deep thrust with a firm slap, and Brock was gone. He buried his head into the mattress and thrust against the pillow under his hips, coming in long spurts all over the white sheets. Jose groaned as Brock’s orgasm caused the Canadian to tighten around him, and he thrust in two more times before pulling out and coming on Brock’s lower back, breath coming fast and heavy. 

The two stayed in their positions for about a minute before Jose collapsed next to Brock and Brock turned on his side. They shared lazy, slow kisses for a while before they simply pulled back to gaze at each other with tired, loving smiles. Jose traced Brock’s face with his fingers.

“Remember when you said that kissing me made me shut the fuck up?”

“Yeah,” Brock snorted.

“Well, I guess fucking you makes you shut the fuck up.”

They laughed until they were silent again, Brock shutting his boyfriend up with another kiss.

Yeah, this was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so....I think I realized that I really like bottom Brooke


	6. In which Vanjie gets annoyed and Brooke Lynn gets exactly what he wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weeellllllll, they’re together again on tour in England, and you know what that means. Get your asses ready for some fucking clownery.

The passengers on the tube minded their own. Fathers and mothers heading home from work, construction workers, nurses, teenagers, humans of every variety waited patiently in silence as the train bumped and turned its way to the station. All except for two gay drag queens and their manager, Jason, who was idly laughing at the familiar struggle he and Brooke were having at keeping Vanjie at a legal volume. He sat in the seat adjacent to Brooke, his phone blowing up with questions and multicolored hearts from Instagram live. Brooke looked over Vanjie’ s shoulder as the smaller queen’s eyes scanned the comments, trying to respond to as many as she possibly could. He finally chose a question that Brooke felt could have definitely been skipped over in a crowded transit.

“Top or bottom? I’m sure I’ve answered that 40,000 bazillian times,” Vanjie replied to an age-old comment, playful irritation in his voice. Brooke, however, felt lively being around his eccentric ex-boyfriend again, and whether it was the excitement in the air over being in a different country or the Xanax that was still wearing off from the flight, Brooke decided to play around with his children.

He mouthed behind Vanessa’s head as the other queen continued to rant, ‘ _ Bottom.’ _

“And ya’ll keep askin-”

_ ‘She’s a bottom.’ _

“Like ya’ll can be takin’ down anybody-”

_ ‘Power bottom’ _

“You know I am what I am!” Vanjie wrapped up the subject, and Brooke eased the transition by convincing him to go live with another fan. They ended the live soon after as other passengers started to turn their heads, and the three men chatted in low, excited voices about the restaurants, queens, clubs, and trade that they would see.  As their talking diminished and the low clamor of the strangers around them filled the silence, Brooke’s mind began to drift from pubs and muscled hairy Londoners. His entire thought process was a wobbly, broken train, trailing round and round in circles about the image of  _ Vanessa. Vanessa in 2018, on his knees, hands bracketed surprisingly strongly at Brooke hip-bones, his mouth laving at the crease of his hip and thigh and laughing low and darkly as Brooke’s hand on his shaven head pulled at him, attempted to get him to do anything, but Vanjie wouldn’t have it. He trailed one hand up Brooke’s chest and pushed him harder against the wall, Brooke’s brains spilling all over the carpet of his bedroom as he lowered his mouth onto Brooke’s leaking shaft and in one go- _

“You okay, Toes?”

2019 Vanjie broke Brooke Lynn out of his erotic slumber as he realized he had been staring out the window, his hand gripping the handrest of his seat so hard that his finger tattoos appeared night-black against the white of his knuckles. He looked at Vanjie, his low-hanging tank top, his faded tattoo, his fucking lips, and gave him a thumbs up.  _ I’m so fucked _ .

\---

Brooke’s head throbbed. He had been foolish to forget how hard the Brits can party. He couldn’t even  _ pronounce _ Hennessey, let alone take another cup of dark liquid from a cute brunette at the club. As soon as he, Vanjie, and Jason had gotten back to their rooms, Brooke collapsed face-first onto the bed, not even bothering to turn off the lights. Face pressed into the pillow, he drunkenly attempted to recount the events of the night but all that he could muster was a cheap compilation of shots, shirtless guys, more shots, Vanjie dancing with a dog, himself singing a song he had never heard before, more shots, and eventually, one of their London friends calling them a cab before they wandered too far away down the Soho streets.

What he could recall in vivid detail, however, (even though the walls of her hotel room were spinning wildly and he couldn’t remember the winner of season 11) was Vanjie. Vanjie tonight.  _ Jesus Christ _ . Brooke couldn’t help but down another shot as he caught a glimpse of Vanjie’s soft, but firm thighs as he moved effortlessly on the dancefloor. No one could keep up with his energy, and  _ fuck _ was he good at dancing. He couldn’t tear his gaze away when he noticed Vanjie across the dance floor flirting with a tall, blonde, white dude. The guy in question casually brushed his hand across Vanjie’s chest, over his tattoo, giggling and probably asking what it ‘meant’. If it wasn’t for the warm hand on his own thigh belonging to a cute, muscled, bearded guy that bought Brooke a drink and was currently attempting to seduce him at a table in the corner, Brooke might have marched drunkenly across the crowd of sweaty, dancing gays and broken the guy’s fingers.  

As his thoughts grey more violent, a loud bang sounded in the room and Brooke clutched his head. After a minute, the sound came again and Brooke realized that someone had knocked on the door. He looked at his phone.  _ 3:13 am. _ Maybe Vanjie had pulled one on him and sent up some trade. Preparing to groggily send a handsome, young London boy home in the middle of the night, Brooke made his way to the door clad in only his signature sweatpants. He swayed on his feet slightly as he turned the knob.  What staggered in on tiny pony legs was not some random trade. It was Vanjie, slamming the door behind him and looking almost more drunk than Brooke. He had left his signature hat laying on his hotel room floor, forgetting his socks and shoes. Since their rooms, were adjacent, it wouldn’t have been hard for Vanjie to drop all his shit and stop in unannounced like he had been accustomed to when they were dating. But, they weren’t dating.

“Wh-what are yo-what’s wroong?” Brooke tried to say as sober as possible. Vanjie looked him right in the eye, his reddened gaze unwavering and his expression almost pained.  _ Was he crying? _ Brooke wasn’t sure how to comfort the drunk Puerto Rican without stepping over some line. If he was being honest with himself, though, any line that he and Vanjie had drawn between what was okay and wrong for exes to do had been severed when they hooked up two weeks after their break up. As confused as he was then, Brooke cautiously stepped forward and held his arms out to the smaller queen. “Baby..” he said quietly, longingly. Without another word, Vanjie twisted his face in determination and practically pounced on Brooke, knocking him to the bed with himself on top.

“Wh-what the fuuck?” Brooke gasped, the air instantly knocked out of him. He raised his arms in defense, preparing for Vanjie to scold him, hit him, make him apologize. Vanjie’s hands came down on his wrists and held them down to either side of his head. When Brooke opened his eyes, however, Vanjie was no longer smoldering. He wore a strange expression, one that Brooke had long forgotten. The bitch was fucking  _ jealous. _

Before he could say anything, Vanjie’s hand left one of his wrists and slammed down over his mouth.

“You don’t say shit. Is that okay, daddy?”

Vanjie, eyes still clouded with emotion, smirked, and Brooke’s dick twitched loyally. Without paying any attention to Brooke’s chest, Vanjie slid a hand down his torso and over his sweatpants, rubbing his quickly hardening length through the worn material and stroking it through the fabric, Brooke’s hips writhing at the touch and his eyes threatening to close completely.

Vanjie lowered his mouth to Brooke’s ear and whispered in his lowest voice, the one that instantly gave Brooke goosebumps, “Now, you gotta be thinkin’ I’m some fuckin’ fool if I didn’t know you was lookin’ at me all night, thinkin’ about me.” Brooke hurriedly shook his head, whining quietly as Vanjie’s hand became more forceful.

“You think you’s fuckin’ cute, daddy? Showin’ yo ass and dick to every boy in tha’ club. But you know that dick belong to me, right?” He squeezed Brooke’s member hard then, Brooke’s back arching off the bed and his whining a smothered “uh-huh!” under Vanjie’s hand.

 

Vanjie pulled back, pushing Brooke Lynn further onto the bed. He stared into Brooke’s eyes challengingly, a small smirk on his face that Brooke desperately wanted to fuck off of him. Taking his shirt off, then pants and briefs, Vanessa wasted no time crawling back onto Brooke and pulling his sweats off too, raising his eyebrows at Brooke when there was nothing underneath. They were both fully hard now, and their mouths came together aggressively as Vanjie straddled Brooke’s legs. After a couple of moments of licking and panting into each other’s mouths, Brooke looped his arms around Vanjie’s adorably small waist and attempted to roll both of them over. Vanjie just laughed and enthusiastically threw his arms off of him, instead planting his own hands on Brooke’s chest and smiling innocently as he ground his ass against his hard dick, ready and leaking between his cheeks. Brooke keened and buried his hands into Vanjie’s thighs, panting already. “Pleease  _ fuck, _ baby. I  _ need _ it.  _ Oh my fucking god. _ ”

 

Vanjie stuck his tongue out at him childishly, bouncing up and down subtly on Brooke’s dick, the older queen releasing a possessive growl. “You got condoms and lube?” Vanjie asked nonchalantly, playing on Brooke’s length like a playground ride. Brooke could only nod tensely, looking over at the bag on his bedside table. Vanjie reached over and fished out a condom and small packet of lube. He ripped the condom packet open with his teeth and quickly rolled the condom onto Brooke, the taller of the two groaning painfully and bucking his hips. Before Brooke could even tell, Vanjie had already covered two of his fingers in lube and fucked himself quickly, releasing quiet "ah"s that made Brooke’s cock ache and precum drip onto his stomach as he watched him. Finally Vanjie took his old position over Brooke’s dick and sunk himself down, releasing a needy whine and anchoring himself with his hands on Brooke’s broad chest. It was now that the two remembered how drunk they still were, as Vanjie allowed Brooke to hold onto him by his hips, lest he topple over onto the Canadian mid-fuck. “ _ Ahh _ , daddy.” Vanjie’s eyes slid shut, “I’m gonna fuck you so  _ fucking _ hard.” Brooke’s breath left his body and he let out an embarrassingly high moan for a ‘top’. Vanjie began to grind on him first, the friction leaving both of them breathless. Then, Vanjie really began to ride Brooke, to fuck him. Hard. He bounced so hard on his dick that his ass began to leave red patches on Brooke’s hips. All the while, Brooke Lynn was holding onto his hips for dear life and moaning louder than he remembered he could moan, the sounds whiny and foreign to his own ears. Vanjie saw to it that he came first, clenching down on Brooke Lynn as he ground onto him and lightly squeezing the blonde’s throat with one hand. Brooke was shaking. “ _ Daddy _ , come for me. Come on. Good boy,” he cooed, relentlessly fucking himself on Brooke’s length as Brooke came with a prolonged, high whine. Vanjie pulled off of Brooke’s dick and scooted forward, stroking himself and shooting white on Brooke’s chest, Brooke staring at him in awe as he threw his head back in ecstasy. 

After Brooke threw off the condom, the two lay naked on top of Brooke’s bed, the sheets warm and moist. Brooke tucked his head under Vanjie’s chin, his cheek pressed against the tattoo he had his eyes on all day. His legs were much longer than Vanjie’s and his whole body encompassed the smaller queen’s as he cuddled into him. No matter how much bigger he was than Vanessa, though, Brooke finally realized that he had never been the one doing the ‘fucking’. No. Brooke Lynn Hytes was officially, thoroughly, fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back and I couldn’t be happier! If you have any ideas or suggestions, don’t hesitate to leave a comment. Thanks, again!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. Leave any prompts or suggestions for more stories to come in the comments. Thanks!


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